Thanksgiving Homecoming

I'm startled awake by a knock on my door. I look around, taking in my surroundings, confused about my whereabouts. I place a palm on my forehead to ease my splitting headache. This only helps revive my memories of every bad thing that has happened to me over the past week. These terrible memories come flooding back to me, causing goosebumps of panic to cover my skin and my heart to beat outside my chest. My body feels like it's been hit by a train because I've spent the past few nights sleeping on the lumpy oversize brown suede couch in the office of my bar, the beloved Munoz's Bar. The knock gets louder and harder on my door as I contemplate ignoring it, hoping the person will go away.

"Aleena! Get your ass out here. You can't hide in there forever. You have a business to run," Bryce's familiar deep voice loudly reprimands me from the other side of the door. I let out a loud groan because the fucker is right. I rush into the bathroom to freshen up, and the once-beautiful girl I've come to love and respect isn't staring back at me. The girl's reflection in the bathroom mirror looks like shit. Her eyes have big black bags underneath the size of an overstuffed airplane carry-on, her appearance is disheveled, showcasing her brokenness, and her poor emotional state is evident in the despair in her eyes. I let out every profane word known to man, splashing water on my face, straightening my ratty old L.A. Dodgers tee, and brushing the wrinkles out of my faded cut-offs.

"Get it to-fucking-gether, Aleena Munoz," I say, giving the shitty stranger in the mirror a pep talk before begrudgingly walking out of the office to show my face to the malevolent world. I take a deep breath, trying to calm my nerves, stepping out of the office too loud booing and snickers. I roll my eyes, hold my head high, and march over to the bar, where my bartender is swamped with orders. Munoz's Bar has always been busy, especially since it's located near one of the biggest Marine bases in the country, but even more so after I recently starred in a viral military homecoming gone wrong. Well, wrong is definitely an understatement. A bomb fucking detonated, and I broke the Internet worse than when Will Smith slapped the shit out of Chris Rock at the Oscars.

I hear my voice ring out, "Yeah, buddy. Imagine my shock when seven months ago, a woman two months pregnant showed up at our place homeless and needing a place to stay, claiming she was pregnant with MY boyfriend of eight years' baby." I hear loud ohs and burns as laughter rings out. I really wish they'd stop playing that shit. I rub my sore neck and shoot the group of young Marines watching the viral video on replay, one of my most deadliest glares.

"You look like absolute shit, Munoz," Bryce states, taking a swig of his beer. I roll my eyes as I start pouring drinks, hoping that the quicker these mother fuckers got them, the faster they'd disperse from around the Bar.

"No, shit Captain Obvious," I murmur, pinching the bridge of my nose. I have been living out one of the most embarrassing days of my life over and over again, thanks to the phenomenal media outlet we all know as social fucking media. And being an Internet sensation brought you love and hate. If you go viral, you don't want to go viral for dissing a service member. Apparently, even if he did deserve it. Fucking, trust me! I had the honor of learning that shit the hard way. I remember that god-forsaken day as if it were yesterday. I walked into Munoz's Bar to open up for the day, and there were people and cameras everywhere. Then, to my surprise, Javier "Javi" Contreras, my long-time boyfriend since high school, greeted me in his Marine cammies. I was in complete shock; he'd been gone for almost a year now, and the last time we'd briefly spoken, he told me for the millionth time he was unsure when he'd be coming home. Clearly, the bastard lied like he had about many things. Deepening my mortification, Javi had dropped to one knee and spewed a bunch of bull shit about how he wanted me to be his "forever"—lies—and I am his one "true love"—more lies in one of the most theatrical proposals, I'd ever witnessed in my life. I attempted to save him from embarrassment by asking to talk in private, but Javi being the attention whore he is, kept shaking his head no. So, I frustratingly dropped the biggest bomb on him about his "other" girlfriend being pregnant as part of my rejection of his proposal. I thought the fucker was going to pass out. I'd never seen anyone's face go so ghostly pale as their eyes bugged out of their head.

Next thing you know, the shitshow airs, and I'm labeled the badass no-shit-taking heroine, or the scornful revenge-seeking bitch that took a should be a heartfelt moment to embarrass a service member back from deployment. My mother called me, reading the RIOT Act, telling me how she received a call from a hysterical Mrs. Contreras and how I should've accepted the proposal to save face. But, the forever disappointment to her that I am, I had embarrassed her and the family of one of her oldest friends. Yet, was everyone missing the fact I was fucking cheated on and did a noble deed by taking in my dude's baby mama? Did these people actually think I should've accepted that jackass's proposal? I shake my head in frustration, vigorously wiping down the bar.

"It’ll all blow over soon. I mean, it sucks since we live in Oceanside, and Javi happens to be one of the Marines from the local base,” I glare at Bryce because I didn’t need someone rubbing salt into my raw wounds at the moment. Bryce rushes out, “But something else big will happen, like someone supergluing their hair to their head, and you’ll be old news.”

“Thanks, Bry, you’re really helping me. God, I really need a place to stay. I moved out, and I’ve been crashing on the couch in the office. There’s no way in hell I’ll be going home to mama Siddiqui to feel her wrath. It’s bad enough I’ll have to see her in a couple of weeks for Thanksgiving and hear about how all I do is give her a migraine. God, I really miss sleeping with the baby mama,” I say, half sarcastically and half longingly. Bryce spits out his beer, coughing up a lung, giving me a wide-eyed stare like he just heard his long-awaited paternity test results on an episode of Maury.

“You were fucking the baby mama, too? Is her pussy made of gold, and do her nipples lactate beer,” Bryce loudly whispers, ignoring my scowl as I clean up the beer he spits all over the bar.

“What the fuck? No! I can neither confirm nor deny the status of her nipples nor the state of her pussy. It’s probably been destroyed as we speak since she should’ve delivered the baby by now. But our mattress was like sleeping on a cloud, and she had this pregnancy body pillow I bought her that was heaven on earth,” I dreamily respond, letting out a sigh of agitation. My blood boils with anger as I think about how Javi’s selfish antics completely uprooted my life. I’m being treated like the bad guy after I moved out of the apartment after I took care of his baby mama while he was deployed. I was now sleeping on a lumpy fucking couch and uncomfortable because I hadn’t been able to properly shower for days.

“One, you can crash with Tia and me for the next few days. My girl loves the other best girl in my life so she won’t mind. Two, if you’re looking for a place, I think I might know of a house for rent,” Bryce says. My heart swells, and a broad smile crosses my face. Oh! Thank God! This is why Bryce is my bestest and oldest friend. Bryce always comes to my rescue, protects me, and provides me with a shoulder to cry on whenever I need one. Bryce is my knight in shining armor. His kryptonite was definitely damsels in distress. In high school, his nickname was Mr. Save a Hoe for a reason. At this moment, he was living up to the title by helping me out of this annoying mess. I pass him another free bottle of beer. He smiles, winks, and continues, “I heard from my L.T. that my commander, Colonel Hart, has a place in Oceanside he’s been trying to rent out, but-“

“I’ll fucking take it. Where do I sign? How do I get into contact with this commander, dude? When will it be available,” I cut Bryce off, determined to secure this place because I could not spend another night couch surfing or sleeping in my bar’s office.

“Are you sure? I’d suggest you’d at least look at the place. I mean-“Bryce states, staring at me like I’ve lost my damn mind for my overly eager behavior to move into a place I haven’t seen.

“I don’t care. Please just tell me the next steps. I’m so ready to be in my own place again,” I desperately plea.

“Alright,” Bryce says, rubbing his hands over the scruff on his chin before continuing, “I’ll let my L.T. know that you want the place.” I let out a sigh of relief, ecstatic to finally be moving into my own place. I jump up and down in glee a few times. Maybe things were finally looking up for me after the shitty nightmare I’d barely been surviving this past week.

I’m going to fucking kill Bryce! This has become my daily mantra. In all fairness, he tried to warn me about moving in and paying a non-refundable deposit on a place I’d never seen. But his commander should be fucking ashamed of himself. This one-bedroom “quaint” home was a fucking dump. “Fixer Upper,” my ass! I find myself currently living in a shit hole, and there is no way in hell this place can be up to code. Every day I am constantly finding something new that is fucked up with this rental property. Also, my landlord, Colonel Hart, either didn’t exist, is a complete fucking jackass, or is the busiest man in the universe. I’d never met the fucking man, which would be fine if there wasn’t something breaking every damn day in this shithole he’s charging a pretty penny for! The bastard is ignoring my calls like he owes me fucking money. I’ve resorted to leaving him multiple daily irate messages because this house is practically unlivable.

Plus, this bastard doesn’t have the balls to come to meet my wrath or at least the decency to send an actual handyman to fix all the shit that is fucked up in this dilapidated house. Over the past week and a half, I’d been greeted in my spare time away from the bar by some muscle-head Marine to come to check out or fix some shit at my place. Surprise! Surprise! These jackasses don’t have a clue about home improvements. They’re volunteering for these jobs wanting to kiss their Commander’s ass. These meatheads come over, tinker with some shit, get lucky, and it’ll work for a few hours, then break again. Enough is enough! I have decided I will march my ass to that man’s office Monday morning, come hell or high water and give him a piece of my fucking mind. I am over this shit! I’m beginning to really fucking hate the Marines! These fuckers are forever ruining my life!

I aggressively rub my throbbing temples feeling like an ice pick is permanently hacking behind my left eye. My body has recently become a constant state of painful tension. I am just one big stress ball. By the end of this year, I won’t have any teeth left from the constant grinding of my jaw. I need to relax before I have a stroke at 22 years old. A nice warm shower or bath always calms my nerves. Since this shit place doesn’t have a functioning bathtub. I decided to clear my head with a nice hot shower.

I stand under the showerhead's spray, feeling the hot water massage my body, causing every tight muscle to slowly begin to ease and the knots in my body to start to unravel. But I still feel on edge. Not able to fully relax. Fuck, it’s probably because it’s been a while since I’ve gotten some dick. My pussy has been aching and throbbing with sexual want. Javi has been the only person I’ve fucked since he swiped my v-card during our sophomore year of high school. It’s never been anything to write home about. Honestly, I should’ve written him a Dear John letter years ago. I step out of the shower, fishing for the perfect solution for my needy pussy out of the closest bathroom drawer. I slap my suction cup eight-inch good time buddy, “Anthony”, a life-like dildo to the shower wall. I slather him with water-based lubricant and turn to face the shower head. I swear sex toys are the best invention on earth. They don’t say dumb misogynistic shit, leave the toilet seat up, knock up their side pieces, and humiliate you with a mediocre media-covered proposal.

I spread my legs and bend over slightly, lining the entrance of my quivering vagina with the head of the dildo. I tease myself, slowly riding the head to stretch my sex out so I can comfortably take my good time pal, feeling myself to the hilt. I begin toying with my erect nipples by kneading and rolling them between my index finger and thumb until they are overly sensitive. I feel a pleasurable pain as the warm water beats down against the elongated buds. I let out a low whimper grinding down on the dildo until my pussy is stuffed to the max. As much as I’d love some real man meat, this silicone dick will get the job done, and at least there’ll be a guaranteed orgasm, which unfortunately wasn’t always the case with Javi. I slowly begin to ride Anthony letting out a moan of satisfaction as it deeply penetrates me, massaging my hot wet center. I snatch the shower head off the wall holding it to my clitoris as I slam up and down on my dildo, riding it so hard my body begins to writhe and convulse as I feel my orgasm building inside of me. I grind my pulsing clitoris on the shower head more intensely as I rock back and forth against the dildo. I begin panting, feeling my body become flush, my clitoris throbbing, all the telltale signs that I’m about to cum, and then I squeal in pain as the showerhead clatters to the ground after sending what feels like shards of ice onto my clitoris before shutting off.

I scream in a deadly rage, so sexually frustrated, so close to the damn orgasm I’ve been craving and needing desperately. I disengage my body from my dildo and furiously stomp out of the shower. I wrap myself in a fluffy white towel and head to my living room, where I left my phone charging. Enough was enough from this shit landlord. I couldn’t even get my rocks off because everything in this house was broken. I let out a loud, ear-piercing screech as I enter my open space living room and kitchen. Shivering from the drafty chill of the old house, I hold my towel tighter against my body, peering into a pair of shocked beautiful bright blue eyes of an older man that has just finished whipping his soaking wet shirt over his head. My mouth goes dry, my pussy throbbing as erratically as my heart causing me to clench my thighs together for some relief. Oh my, oh my. This shirtless man standing in the middle of my kitchen is sexy as sin. His biceps bulge with muscles, and he has abs for days, meaning he’s probably never missed a workout a day in his life. My mouth salivates, taking in his muscular thighs clad in gray sweatpants that should be illegal. We stand staring at each other; his eyes fill with lust as he takes in my dripping wet naked body in nothing but a towel that’s leaving very little to the imagination.

Remembering myself, I clear my throat to steady my thoughts and ask, “Who the fuck are you, and why are you in my house?” I swipe my wet, tangled mess of dark curls out of my face trying to keep my eyes on this gorgeous older man’s face and off his lickable chiseled abs.

He rubs the back of his neck, gaining his composure, and answers in a deep raspy voice, “I’m here to fix the dishwasher.” Motherfucker! That dickhead of a landlord sent another one of his damn Marines to do his dirty work. I stomp over to him, grab him by the wrist, and yank him toward the bathroom.

I push him into my bathroom, which he dwarfs with his tall, muscular frame making it feel about one hundred degrees hotter with me and enclosed in the tight space. I shake my head, trying to focus on the task at hand, and exclaim, “Fuck, the dishwasher! I was uh-uh. Washing my hair and the showerhead stopped working on me!” He steps into the shower, and I step into the doorway to get a closer look at his gorgeous body, I mean, the showerhead. Fuck! I needed to get dick down, and I needed to do so quickly. I was losing my mind! The gorgeous stranger begins turning the shower knobs and tinkering with the showerhead, confusion creasing his tanned forehead and clouding his beautiful blue eyes. I feel my body becoming hot, my pussy getting wet, and the bud between my thighs throbbing as I watch the muscles of the man’s back flex with every move as he examines the shower hardware. Thoughts of the man fucking into my horny pussy fill my mind. I envision him standing in the shower, soaking wet, my legs wrapped around his waist, his strong fingers digging into my ass cheeks as he aggressively pounds into my pussy.

I’m brought back to reality as I’m literally doused in cold water when the sexy fucker finally gets the showerhead to turn back on. I let out a delayed scream jumping away from him to avoid getting sprayed with more ice-cold water. Amid my ungraceful scramble to dodge the water, my white bath towel slips off my body.

“I am so sorry, sweetheart,” the man states, spastically turning the shower knobs to turn off the showerhead. His eyes widen in shock once he turns to face me. My nipples harden and lengthen under his passion-filled gaze as his eyes roam over my naked body. The longer his gaze feasts on me, standing in nothing but my birthday suit, my chest heaves from my panting, my skin feels heated and prickly, and my pussy drips in arousal. I realize he’s soaked himself in the process of getting the showerhead working, and his gray sweatpants cling to his thighs, showcasing the impressive dick currently tenting the front of his pants. I don’t know who moves first, but my back is slammed against the bathroom door. His fingers tangle in my messy hair as he devours my mouth with a hard passionate kiss. I moan in pleasure as my hardened nipples tingle from the delicious sensation created by the friction of the erect buds rubbing against his chest hair. I grab the silk strands of his hair, nipping at his bottom lip, pressing myself closer to his hard muscular frame. He rips his mouth from my swollen lips to bite, nibble, and lick my ear, causing me to shiver as fiery ribbons of lust tug at my hot wet center.

I shove my hands down his wet boxers and sweatpants, swiping my finger around the tip and feeling and moistening my fingers with his precum. He lets out a low deep throaty groan. I can barely wrap my hand around the thick girth of his manhood as I begin fisting up and down his impressive length. I let out a screech of pleasure as his teeth sink into my shoulder before he wrenches himself out of my grip. He gives me a smirk causing me to swallow the lump of anticipation in my throat. The sexy stranger spins me around, pushing my heated naked body down on the cool granite bathroom countertop. He wraps my long, tangled hair around his fist, slightly lifting my upper body off the counter. I have no choice but to watch him in the mirror as he slams his big dick into my dripping-wet pussy. I let out a hiss of sexual satisfaction as he pulls my hair taut around his fist, causing a slight pain. My nipples love the sensation he creates as they drag back and forth against the cold granite countertop as he mercilessly bucks into my wet channel. I watch in the mirror, meeting the man thrust for thrust as he fucks me hard, deep, and savagely from behind against my bathroom countertop. My knees painfully hit the vanity drawers, and I know it’ll leave some bruising, but my sex-fevered mind doesn’t give a fuck. I love how this man dominates my pussy with deep, strong strokes. I feel my orgasm building, and he lets go of my hip as he speeds up his strokes to reach in front of me and begins squeezing and stroking my clitoris until I see stars. My pussy clamps down on his dick as I convulse and writhe against him, riding out the cosmic waves of my orgasm. He pounds into me a few more times before pulling out and squirting his sexual release all over my backside.

He slumps to the ground breathing heavily with me in his arms as we both recover from the intensity of our orgasms. My body feels lighter, and I can think more clearly. He kisses my hair, kneading my nipples in a way that makes my stomach flop and my body begin to gear up for round two. I go rigid in his arms, realizing I just let a complete stranger fuck my brains out on my bathroom countertop.

Sensing the change in my body language, the man’s deep raspy voice questions, “What’s wrong?”

“I just fucked you, and we don’t even know each other’s names,” I say, mortified, trying to pull out of his grasp, but he anchors me in place, stroking my stomach, making me settle in between his strong muscular thighs on the bathroom floor.

“Easy solution. I’m Damien. This has been a very pleasurable first meeting,” he jokes. I am so glad Damien can’t see my face because I feel the heat rise up my neck, and I’m sure I’m as red as a tomato.

“I’m Aleena. Yes, I really needed that fuck. So, thank you. Well, I guess I should be thanking my shitty landlord for sending another one of his Marines. That guy is such an asshat. I can’t wait to give your shitty Commander, Colonel Hart, a piece of my fucking mind. Have you met the bastard,” I ask, turning to face him as his hold goes slack around my waist.

He gives me a small smirk. Damien looks sexy as hell when his hooded gaze meets mine. He lets out a small laugh and answers, “Oh yeah, I know the bastard very well. In fact, my whole life. Since I am Colonel Hart.”

Oh. My. Fucking Gosh! I just fucked my landlord and insulted him all within our first meeting. I feel the blood drain from my face. For one of the very few times in my life, I am at a loss for words. He begins to laugh hysterically, causing me to become infuriated by his response.

“What’s so funny,” I question, shooting him fiery daggers with my coldest glare.

“Oh, nothing. You were a fucking hellcat on my voicemail. My crew called you names I shall not repeat after coming by to assist you in my absence. And well, you just mouthed off, so I’m thinking of all the ways I’m going to fuck the sass out of you, sweetheart,” he responds matter of factly, his bright blue eyes darkening to a stormy blue and his dirty mouth causing butterflies to flutter in my vagina. After studying my face for a second, he continues, “Are you the young woman from that vid-“ I cover his mouth with mine, not wanting him to bring up that damn viral video when he finally helped me stop thinking about it only a mere few minutes ago.

I pull away breathlessly and say, “I can think of better ways to spend our time than talking about some stupid video.” I begin stroking his dick, licking my lips as I thrust his dick into my hot wet mouth, wrapping my lips around him.

“Last question,” he grinds out breathily through clenched teeth. I suck him as far down my throat as possible before lifting my head and releasing his dick from my mouth with a loud, sloppy pop. I quirk an eyebrow at him, waiting for him to continue. “Is that a dildo suctioned to the shower wall,” he asks with laughter in his voice. I go bright red, feeling the heat rise on my face.

“What can I say? I’m a girl that loves her toys,” I respond, with a big smile, thrusting his dick back into my mouth and inhaling him to the back of my throat. Commander Hart lets out a loud moan. I’ll be having some fun with my sexy new landlord because he was proving to be a great distraction.

“You’re a girl who loves her toys, huh? Well, sweetheart, I have some fun toys for you,” Damien whispers, sending a chill down my spine as he kisses the twin dimples on my lower back. I was spent and shaking from the recent sex marathon. This man always put me through my paces. My landlord had proven himself to be a sex god over the past two weeks. I had been wasting my time with Javi, who didn’t know what a clitoris was if it was smacking him in the face. Older men were definitely the way to go if you wanted to be satisfied in bed. Damien was twenty-three years older than me and had been introducing me to things in bed I’d never known existed.

Currently, my arms were spread in a high V above my head, shackled to the headboard of my bed in leather cuffs. I lay on my stomach with my legs spread-eagled behind me and held in place with leather cuffs shackled to the footboard of the bedframe. I hear a loud buzzing vibration from behind me, but I can’t turn my head from this position. I let out a soft gasp and feel a slight burning sensation in my butt as Damien fingerfucks my ass up to his knuckles with two fingers. It feels surprisingly good to have him stroke his fingers in such a taboo place of my body. I clench my empty center as desire pools between my thighs. I rock my hips back to meet the thrusting of his fingers as I vocalize my sexual delight with a throaty moan grinding down my clitoris against the mattress as Damien stretches my asshole with his fingers. When I feel close to the cusp of orgasm, Damien slides his fingers out of my ass, giving it a hard smack.

“You better not fucking cum,” he growls, giving my ass an even harder smack than the first lick. I slow my breathing thinking about something else to reign in my arousal and not to detonate before he permits me to climax. I hear the squirting of a liquid from a bottle and feel a sticky, cool gel slide down between my butt cheeks. Damien slides a gel-coated finger into my asshole, swirling it around, taking precautions to generously coat the tight rosebud of my ass with lubricant. I held my breath, my heart rate accelerating because I was nervous yet curious about doing anal. I had never done it with Javi, but I expressed my curiosity about it to Damien when he asked if I’d ever taken a cock up the ass.

“Take a deep breath, sweetheart. Relax your body. I have a new toy for you. It’s a butt plug. I want to prepare this sweet juicy ass of yours before I feel you with my dick, baby,” Damien says as I feel pressure at the entrance of my asshole. I take a deep breath and allow my body to go limp. I feel a slight burn, then a full feeling as Damien slides the butt plug into my asshole. I squirm against the restraints as a vibration zings up my spine. The vibrations of the butt plug deliciously massage me, sending unimaginable pleasure to my hot wet pussy. I scream out my orgasm, shocking myself that I can cum from anal stimulation alone. Damien slaps me hard on my ass, reprimanding me, “Naughty. Naughty. I didn’t tell you that you could cum. Now, be a good little girl for the Commander and get that ass in the air for me. I’ll have to punish you for being a naughty little slut.” I let out a moan as my insides clench and my arousal coats the inside of my thighs. Damien’s dirty mouth always gets me wet, no matter how derogatory his words. I love when he says those nasty things to me. Especially when he refers to himself as the Commander and calls me his dirty little slut or good girl.

I push myself onto my knees, spreading my legs wide as the vibrations in my asshole speed up, becoming more intense. I assume Damien’s controlling the vibrating butt plug with a remote control testing my limits and causing me to go wild. Damien slowly slides just the tip of his big dick into my engorged throbbing core and slowly drags himself out in shallow thrusts. He does this two more times before slamming into me. I feel deliciously full as he hisses from the tight fit of his dick in my pussy with the vibrating butt plug in my ass. I can assume my Commander is pleased by how my pussy wraps around his dick like a tight-fitting glove. He begins fucking me mercilessly, simultaneously with the tempo of the butt plug. One hand holds me steady, digging into my hip, while the other pulls on my long dark hair. Damien fucks me aggressively and dirty, working me over into orgasm after orgasm until my voice is hoarse from screaming. I feel like I’m about to pass out as he yells out his release, his weight collapsing on top of my satiated body.

Damien quickly gets off me, cautious not to crush me with his weight. He slowly pulls the butt plug out of my ass as I lay limp and satisfied on the bed. He releases my limbs from the restraints massaging life back into them. Damien leaves me on the bed for a short period to grab a warm damp towel from the bathroom. He gently and thoroughly cleans my body up from my sweat and release. I sit up lightheaded from the amazing fucking, and he comes to sit behind me, massaging the kinks out of my shoulders.

“Come to my mom’s with me for Thanksgiving,” I blurt out, not even thinking since my mind is still coming down from its drunken haze after experiencing earth-shattering sex. Damien’s hands freeze on my shoulders. Fuck! I scared him away. I quickly rush out to save face, “Only if you don’t have any plans, I mean.”

He kneads my shoulders working his hands over to massage the stress out of my neck, causing me to groan. I hold my breath as I wait for his response.

“Yeah, sure. My son spends it at his mother’s every year when he’s not deployed, and my retired parents spend this time of the year traveling, so I’m free,” he answers after a beat.

I let out a sigh of relief. This is the first Thanksgiving since my dad passed away, and he was typically the buffer between my mom and me during holidays, hell, if not on the regular. So, with a guest in tow, she will definitely be on her best behavior. This meant I could avoid her reprimands about the Javi debacle and the damn viral video that has yet to die down.

I’m extremely winded. I’m panting like I just ran a marathon, trying to catch my breath. I’m a flush sweaty hot mess, and I’m pretty sure I’ve ruined the leather of Damien’s Range Rover’s passenger seat with my sopping wet pussy. I’ve never come so hard and so fast in my entire life. It was about an hour and a half drive from Oceanside to my mom’s house in Los Angeles. So, Damien made good use of the mini road trip by torturing me with a panty vibrator. He pulls me across the dash in the front seat, sliding me down onto his rock-hard dick.

“Damien, we can’t. We’re sitting outside my mother’s house,” I lamely protest, flexing my throbbing core muscles around his dick. All the play on the way to my mother’s house left me so hot and so horny.

“We’ll make it fast,” Damien mutters, his hot wet breath against the pressure point of my neck sending chills down my spine. I hike my leather skirt higher around my waist, splaying my thighs wide as I rock back and forward on his dick. I live for this full feeling that Damien’s dick provides me as I bounce up and down. His dick hits my G-spot causing me to quiver with satisfaction. Damien pulls down the front of my V-neck bodysuit, exposing my tits, and I let out a throaty moan as his hot wet mouth latches onto a pert nipple. I dig my nails into the shoulder rest of the driver seat to pick up the pace, kegeling his dick as I grind my clitoris down on his pelvis to hurdle us to climax. Damien’s hips meet me, thrust for thrust until we’re both shaking as we explode from our orgasms simultaneously. Beeeepppp!!! Oh shit, I accidentally laid back on the horn. I quickly scramble off his lap into the passenger seat to fix my disheveled appearance. Damien lets out a loud, boisterous laugh as he tucks his dick back into his jeans.

“Fuck! Thank god my mom or brother didn’t come outside,” I say, letting out a breath I didn’t know I was holding as I turned to open the car door.

“Brother,” Damien questions, pausing to turn and look at me quizzically.

“Yeah, sorry. I totally forgot he’d be here today. Please don’t look so worried because he’s almost eight years older than me, and we didn’t grow up together. He won’t even think about you or try to put on a macho big brother act,” I say, hopping out of the car. Damien and I walk towards the door hand in hand. Instead, I don’t bother knocking and unlock the door with the spare key my mom hides under a rock near the bushes.

“Ammi,” I shout as I enter the warm house, feeling at home as traditional Pakistani spices and American traditional Thanksgiving scents fill my nostrils.

“Did you just speak Urdu,” Damien asks, staring at me confused. I look at him and laugh because I love shocking people. Many people didn’t know I was Portuguese and Pakistani since my last name was Munoz. Typically, people just assumed I was just Hispanic due to my warm honey skin tone, dark eyes, and dark brown wavy hair.

Before I can answer Damien, my Ammi, Urdu for mother, a sweet soft voice yells, “Alb Albi, me and Hayaat Hayaati are in the kitchen.” Even though my mother and I rarely see eye to eye, it always warms my soul to hear her refer to me as her heart of hearts and my brother as her life of lives in her native tongue. I grab Damien’s hand excitedly to introduce him to my mother. As we enter the kitchen, my mother drops a pan and flinches as if she’s seen a ghost. Her face turned a pea green as if she might vomit.

“Dad,” my brother Dalton yells in confusion, his face morphing in disgust as he spies Damien’s hand clasped with mine.

“D-D-Damien,” my mother sputters out, clutching her throat.

“Neha, Dalton,” Damien says hoarsely. I watch the color drain from his face, and he clenches my hand so hard I yelp.

Did my brother, Dalton, just call Damien “dad”? Oh, shit! That means that Damien is my half-brother’s elitist sperm donor that knocked my mother up as a teenager. I rarely saw Dalton, not only because of the age difference but more so that his father’s, apparently Damien’s parents, raised him and didn’t like my mother all that much because she was the daughter of their live-in maid, one upon a time ago. I feel my skin become blotchy and hot while the room begins to spin, and bile inches up my throat. Well, just my luck! This was going to be a very interesting Thanksgiving dinner.

 “Ouch,” I yelp, rubbing my temple, biting my lip, and praying to God that Ammi and Damien didn’t hear my gripe when Dalton threw a dinner roll as hard as humanly possible at my head. “I’m telling Ammi that you fucking hit me, you prick,” I scream at Dalton while I continue to rub my forehead wiping crumbs out of my hair. Dalton keels over in silent laughter as I give him a one finger salute.

“What are you five, Miss I’m going to go tell Ammi,” Dalton mimics, taking a huge bite of a sweet roll.

“They’ve been in the walk-in pantry for a good twenty minutes, and you can barely hear them,” I say, flabbergasted, placing my ear back on the wooden door.

“Ammi is probably ripping him a new asshole because he’s been taking the younger version of her to pound town. Her precious Alb Albi that’s barely out of her teens,” Dalton says vehemently between bites of the sweet roll.

“I’m not anywhere near my teens. I graduated from college last May. Oh wait, but you wouldn’t know because you didn’t show like all of my other big life events,” I say scornfully, trying but failing to hide my hurt. Dalton’s face collapses, and looks like he’s sucked on a sour lemon as he rises from the dining room table.

“Aleena, I was busy, baby sis. I had school and then the Air Force. Nothing personal,” Dalton says, pulling me into a big bear hug and smacking his lips against my head. I try to pull away as Dalton asks accusatory, “Wait! Is that why you’re fucking my dad?” My eyes bug out of my head as I wrestle my way out of Dalton’s firm hold.

“Um, ew, Dalton. Fuck no! One, don’t flatter yourself. You aren’t that important, my dude. I sometimes love you but not that much. Two, fucking gross, I wouldn’t purposefully fuck Ammi’s baby daddy,” I passionately fling at Dalton, getting revenge by trying to shove a sweet roll down his throat.

“So you just wanted to fuck an old man who more than likely pops Viagra like Tic Tacs,” Dalton coughs as he spits out the hunks of a sweet roll, trying not to choke.

“Oh, trust me. He doesn’t need Viagra. He has the stamina of a stallion and fucks me better than Javi,” I tease Dalton with the biggest grin on my face. Dalton’s face turns a sickly shade of green as he wrestles me into a headlock, giving me a noogie as I slap him hard on his bulging biceps. I feel like this might be the longest conversation I’ve had with my brother in years. I’m not going to lie; it really fucking hurts to think the only way I could get his attention is by accidentally fucking his sperm donor. Shit! My family had drama; I don’t think even the highest-paid psychologist could heal.

I hear a loud thud and realize Dalton has been knocked on his ass behind me. His eyes are small slits giving Damien the most hateful stare as Damien clutches me to his side. I stand as still as a statue, not daring to breathe, afraid that all hell will break loose judging by the tension between these two men.

After what feels like an eternity, Damien speaks, “You don’t put your hands on a fucking woman, boy. You have a little sister, not a brother.”

“Calm down, Damien, that’s how siblings horse around with each other. Don’t put your hands on my kids,” Ammi responds, defending Dalton as she helps him off the ground. My mother acts as a barrier between the two men as they stare each other down. Well, damn. I’m glad I never had daddy issues like Dalton. By the way, things were going; I might just suggest we take some plates to-go. Hell, with how the three of them were looking at each other, I’d much rather eat in the car at a gas station parking lot than at a table with these three. My mother whispers something in Dalton’s ear that makes him seethe with anger. He stalks over to a chair, sits down, and chews on a bread roll so hard I think he might break a tooth.

“Ammi, I’ll help you bring the food to the table. Damien, Dalton, you think you can sit tight for a bit without killing each other,” I ask, pushing out of Damien’s grasp.

“Yeah, Aleena, I’ll pretend he’s not here. He should understand that since he’s been nonexistent most of my life,” Dalton grinds out with a sickly sweet smirk on his face. His statement causes Damien to flush with anger. I feel my body go rigid from that statement, fearing that another word or even another breath from Dalton would be the catalyst that broke Damien’s composure. But Damien just gives me a tight smile and sits across the table from my brother. Ammi drags me into the kitchen by the arm, and the minute the door swings shut behind me, there’s a terrifying serene silence because, of course, there’s always the calm before the storm. I had to make myself crazy busy to keep her from ripping me a new asshole because I’m her “forever disappointment”.

I ignore my ammi’s presence in the kitchen by grabbing a couple of side dishes and heading toward the door. Before Ammi can speak, I hurry out of the room to deposit these two dishes on the table and to make sure neither of the men has killed the other one. As I place the food in the center of the table, Damien strokes my lower back, causing my nipples to pucker and desire to pool between my thighs. My dark eyes meet his heated blue eyes, and I sizzle from thoughts of what happened in the driveway. I hear a loud throat clearing, and my eyes dart to Dalton, whose knuckles have gone white from clenching his water glass with his fist. I quickly pull away from Damien, reminding myself to be conscious not to flaunt my relationship with Dalton’s father in his face.

I rush back into the kitchen, trying to decide whether the tension is worse in the dining room between the men or the kitchen between my Ammi and me. I feel her laser hot glare roaming over my face as if she’s trying to see into my soul and read my mind. My back goes ramrod straight in preparation for the tongue lashing I know I’m about to receive. I slowly bring my eyes to meet her dark eyes that look uncomfortable and nervous. Hm. I guess this situation is as uncomfortable for her as it is for everyone.

“You have to end it, Aleena; it isn’t right. It’s sickening to think that he’s preying on you. Damien is not a man you get involved with romantically. He’s unreliable, dishonest, and self-absorbed. Trust me; there are better options like-” my Ammi begins her lecture, but I puff out a breath and interrupt her halfway through her spiel.

“Like who? Your best friend’s son, Javi? He was freaking cheated on me! Our relationship should have ended long before that horrible viral proposal. I don’t think I ever really liked him. Plus, you and Damien happened almost thirty years ago. I’m not ending something with someone just because you feel a little uncomfortable,” I say, firmly holding my head high, giving her a defiant glare causing her to shift uncomfortably from my hostility. I wasn’t some little girl who would bend to her mother’s will. I am a grown ass woman capable of making my own decisions.

“You’re giving me a damn migraine. Think about how awkward this is for your older brother. His deadbeat dad is screwing his baby sister! His dad spends no time with him and rarely acknowledges his existence, but he has the audacity and time to pursue his younger half-sister romantically. We sound like a damn episode of Jerry Springer. No, Javi is a bastard, and I’d never tell you to be with someone who hurt you, but you’re young and gorgeous. There are other men, so end it and end it now. It’s disgusting,” my Ammi says, picking up the turkey and heading into the dining room. I pick up the last few items seething with fury, and follow her out of the kitchen. My Ammi never cares about my feelings, and it’s always making sure Dalton feels loved or people’s perception of her. It was so fucking infuriating; I’m sure Damien and Dalton could see the steam coming out of my ears as I plopped down into my seat next to Damien.

Ammi began passing the dishes around the table like a madwoman, probably thinking the quicker she could fill everyone’s plates, the quicker this uncomfortable Thanksgiving dinner could end, and we could get on with our lives like today never happened. We ate in awkward silence for the first fifteen minutes as I watched the vein in Damien’s temple pop every time Dalton’s spiteful glare landed on him.

“So, how’d you two love birds meet,” Dalton sarcastically asks, stabbing a few carrots on his plate. Damien rolled his eyes, shoveling garlic mashed potatoes in his mouth, carrying on as if Dalton hadn’t spoken, let alone existed. My mom’s words replayed in my mind about Damien not acknowledging Dalton, breaking my heart as the silence stretched between them.

I shifted in my seat uncomfortably before responding, “I rented that beach cottage he owns in Oceanside.” Dalton’s eyes practically bug out of his head, and he snorts derisively.

“Ah, makes total sense. You’re paying your rent in pussy then, huh baby sis,” Dalton states antagonistically. Ammi’s mouth drops in horror, and I place my hand on Damien’s thigh, digging my nails into his flesh to keep him from rising out of his seat. I feel my body heat with embarrassment because Dalton didn’t completely miss the mark with his comment. Since Damien and I had been sleeping together, he’d refused my rent payment from last month. Dalton just knew how to make a girl feel like a slimy whore.

“It’s not like that,” I say quietly, pleading with my eyes for Dalton to stop while he is ahead. However, this had the reverse effect on Dalton’s actions. It was as if my discomfort and hurt egged on his antagonism.

“So, you didn’t really notice the resemblance between your fuck buddy and your older brother, huh? You think I got my blue eyes from our Pakistani mother, Albi? I know you grew up in Oceanside, but I didn’t think you’d be a trashy whore flittering from one Marine to the next. Once you get tired of riding my sperm donor, I have a few air force buddies looking for an easy piece of ass. You may not get a free place to stay, but you may get a ride home the next day,” Dalton says, flicking some peas my way and letting out a harsh laugh. I felt my eyes fill with hot tears as I try to blink them back, refusing to let my asshole big brother see me cry. I felt like I was eight and he was sixteen, refusing to play tea party with me for the one-hundredth time in a day.

Before I could bite out a response, I heard Ammi scream, accompanied by all the dishes clattering to the floor. Damien had reached across the table and flung Dalton to the floor at his feet. Damien was now on top of him, punching him in the face. Dalton wasn’t a tiny man and practically matched his father in stature, and his pinned-up rage allowed him to get the upper hand, changing their position on the floor and placing his father in a chokehold. I sat there in shock, and for the first time, I noticed the similarities between the two men’s appearances, trying to figure out how I could overlook such a detrimental oversight. But, I rarely saw Dalton, and it’s not like his family are the only Harts in San Diego county. The only sounds in the rooms were expletives, home décor breaking, my mother’s screams of terror, and the pounding of flesh as the two men pummeled each other.

I didn’t know what to do but knew I had to end it as I watched Dalton pick up an end table and launch it at Damien’s head. Dalton barely missed Damien by a fraction, infuriating him even more. Damien barrels towards Dalton, slamming him against the wall by the throat. I watched in horror as Dalton’s face turned a bluish-purple, and his lips went white as he clawed at his father’s hand. I ran to Damien’s side, yelling at him to stop before he killed Dalton and trying to force myself between the two men.

I feel myself become drenched in water as my Ammi throws the water pitcher at Damien. “Leave my fucking house now, Damien, or I will call the fucking cops. Let go of my fucking son, you asshole,” my mother shouted, breaking Damien out of his violent trance. He lets go of Dalton’s throat, punches him in the face, and storms out of the front door. Dalton begins coughing and gasping for air as he slides to the floor. My mother glares at me as she sinks beside Dalton, cradling his face in her hands and comforting him with sweet words and kisses.

“Jesus, Dalton! Why the fuck did you have to antagonize him like that,” I shouted, trembling from fear and anger.

My mom and Dalton looked at me as if I was a traitor. Then, my mother chooses her side with a few words that feel like a knife to the heart, “Leave! Fucking leave Aleena! You’ve done enough, don’t you think? You’re not welcome here until you’re no longer with Damien. It isn’t right; he almost killed your brother, his own son!” I stand there in total shock; I rush out of the house as fat tears roll down my face, needing Damien’s strong warm arms to comfort me.

“Fuck,” I scream as I exit the house. But, to my dismay, my day becomes a whole lot shittier because I don’t see Damien or his SUV in the driveway. The audacity of this jackass! The asshole had stranded me in Los Angeles. Today definitely went down as one of the worst days of my life. Happy Fucking Thanksgiving to me.

I rubbed my throbbing forehead as I walked towards my office in the bar to grab some migraine medication. It had been almost a week since I heard from Damien after that Thanksgiving shitshow. And even worse, Dalton nor my mother were returning any of my phone calls. Even with all the shitty comments Dalton spewed at me, every time I closed my eyes, all I see are flashes of his hurt blue gaze and looks of disgust at Thanksgiving dinner. My brother and I weren’t close, but until that day, we at least peacefully co-existed. I felt sick to my stomach and consumed with guilt, even if my parading his biggest life hurt around him was unintentional. I threw myself down on the couch in my office. I closed my eyes as the ice pick behind my left eye dug a little deeper and harder. Hell, I deserved the pain of the excruciating headache. My father is dead, and my only two other relatives had alienated me all because I got dicked down a few times by his deadbeat daddy. Sheesh! This was such a shit year for me.

I am startled by a warm finger swiping away the dampness on my cheek. Shit! I didn’t know I was crying, and of course, Bryce would be there to save the day. But when I open my eyes, I’m shocked by the sight of Damien squatting down in front of me, his eyes awash with concern. The nerve of this asshole to ignore all my calls and text but think he could just show up to my business unannounced. If he thought my job would be a buffer for him to approach me and I would not make a scene, he was in for a big surprise. Damien claimed he thought I was a hellcat before, but he hadn’t seen my attitude in full effect, and he was going to feel every ounce of my wrath after he fucking stranded me in Los Angeles. I had to call fucking Bryce to come to pick me up on Thanksgiving! How fucking embarrassing? Plus, Bryce being a great best friend to me, put a rift in his relationship with his girl. I quickly wipe the tears I unknowingly shed off my face and give Damien the harshest glare I can muster.

“I see you’re still pissed. I went by your place, but you weren’t there, so I came by here to see if you had a couple of minutes to talk,” Damien said, not giving me eye contact and moving to sit beside me on the couch.

I snorted at his statement; finally answered with a dismissive comment, “I’m a busy Internet sensation with a bar full of people, so make it quick.” I stared at Damien’s beautiful profile feeling myself dampen between my thighs just from being within touching distance of this gorgeous bastard. Finally, after a few minutes of composing himself, he made eye contact with me. What I saw in his eyes told me everything I needed to know. “You’re not going to fight for me. Fight for us. You could’ve said it in a text message or a voicemail,” I whisper. My bottom lip quivers as I try to hold back the tears counting down in my head from five to keep from losing my shit.

“If Dalton weren’t my kid, things would be different,” Damien answered weakly, making me roll my eyes.

“You’re so full of shit. Are you at least going to apologize for leaving me stranded? Do you have anything else to say than using your fucking kid that you were a shit parent to as an excuse to break it off with me,” I yell at him, rising to my feet and shifting from side to side, unable to sit still. My body is vibrating with anger. I begin pacing to keep myself from getting violent with Damien. I had chosen him, and he wasn’t picking me. I felt a sharp stabbing pain in my chest from the devastation. “I deserve better than that weak fucking response because Dalton and Ammi aren’t even speaking to me. You almost choked Dalton to death for calling me a whore, but the apple doesn’t fall too far from the tree because you’re making me feel like what he described me as,” I scream passionately as tears freely flow down my face.

“Aleena, don’t even think that for a fucking second. Dalton was just lashing out and knew if he hurt you, he’d get a reaction out of me. You are none of those things he said to you when he was being a little shit. You’re beautiful, sweet, and one of the sexiest women I’ve ever had the privilege of dating, but it's too messy with Dalton being your brother,” Damien explains, trying to be level-headed in this fucked up situation. Sparks ignite between us, and I feel a zing of desire course through my whole body as he cups my cheeks, wiping my tears away. We held each other’s heated gaze, and like the first time, we fucked in the bathroom. I don’t know who moves first, but our mouths become entangled in a violently passionate kiss. This is what Damien and I have been doing best these past few weeks since our meeting. We have blowout arguments and fuck things better between us. A good hard fuck from Damien became the best apology I’ve ever received. At this moment, we kiss, bite, and tug on each other’s clothes like we can fuck the anger and heartache out of each other.

Damien breaks our kiss leaving me panting in eager anticipation. He sucks my neck hard, causing me to moan aloud as he rips my shirt over my head. Damien is a sex god. He releases my tits from my bra within a second, and my bra falls to the floor. Damien gets on his knees in front of me with a wicked grin on his lips. My nipples are so hard and so erect as he begins palming my left tit while sucking the overly sensitive bud of my right breast into his warm hot mouth. I shiver with pleasure, grasping the soft strands of his dark head, and moaning his name. I see the hunger in his eyes when he looks up at me like my body is the altar he chooses to worship, and he can’t get enough of it. He blows on my right nipple sending a ribbon of desire tugging at my core, making my clitoris throbbing with sexual want. Damien tortures my left nipple as his hand descends downward and beneath my yoga pants. His fingers tread between my wet, slick folds, causing my channel to tighten.

“Your pussy is soaking for me, sweetheart. I think it missed me,” Damien teases, and the vibrations from his voice against my nipple cause me to let out a breathy moan. He tweaks my clitoris, sending a jolt of pleasure to my nipples before shoving two thick fingers into my vagina and stroking my clitoris with a circular motion with the pad of his thumb.

My legs feel like jelly as I feel my orgasm building from Damien’s fingers hitting my G-spot and deliciously massaging my clitoris while his mouth teases my nipples. I feel hot, my skin feels overly sensitive, and I can’t remember my name as my toes curl and my pussy clamps down on his fingers as I scream his name at the top of my lungs. My orgasm hits me so hard I erupt like a volcano.

My knees buckle, and before I can collapse, Damien catches me. “I’m not finished with you yet, baby. I definitely need a taste of your sweet pussy. It’s one of my favorite treats,” Damien says, laying me down in front of the couch. I raise my hips to help him better wrestle me out of my yoga pants. He then spreads my legs wide, licking his lips as he stares between my thighs. “Your pussy is so fucking perfect, sweetheart. It’s glistening wet for me, baby, just how your commander likes it,” Damien praises me, making me get even hornier just from his dirty talk.

I see stars as he dives in, licking all the way up my slit to my clit. I convulse from how sensitive my pussy is from my recent orgasm. This man is a pussy eating champion with the way he uses his fingers and his tongue to stimulate me and heightens my pleasure by creating extra sensations with deep moans of delight against my clitoris. In no time, I’m thrown over a cliff of bliss as another climax shatters me into a million pieces leaving my legs shaky.

I lay naked and limp on the ground in a sexual stupor that I didn’t even notice Damien getting undressed until I felt the head of his big thick dick running through the wetness of my folds. Damien lubes his dick up with my pussy juices, then rams into me roughly, filling me to the hilt. My pussy ripples around his dick as he lifts my legs on his shoulders, penetrating me so hard and fast I can’t form coherent thoughts.

My mind stays in a sex-drunken haze as I focus on this moment extended in time as Damien fucks my brains out. He slows down his stroke, wrapping my legs around his waist and kissing me softly between whispers praising my beauty, humor, and kind-heartedness. The man brings tears to my eyes as he makes slow sweet love to me as his way of saying goodbye. Damien licks away my tears as he rolls his hips hitting my G-spot and muffling our moans and grunts of pleasure as he sends both of us over the edge.

“You’ll make someone a happy man one day, sweetheart,” Damien says softly, kissing me one last and final time as he pulls out of me. I lay on the floor, silently crying as he dressed, leaving me in anguish. After a few minutes, I rise and get dressed. I go to the bathroom and peer at my reflection. I look a fucking mess with passion swollen lips, blotchy tear streaked skin and crazy tangled sex hair.

“Hey babe, you okay,” Bryce’s familiar voice says behind me. I watch his reflection through blurred, teary vision as my face crumples and I begin to ugly cry. My heart has been ripped out of my chest one too many times these past few months, and loud hard sobs wrench from my body. Bryce picks me up bridal style and carries me to the sofa holding me against his chest as I cry so many tears of pain.

“I really liked him. Life is just so unfair,” I angrily wail into Bryce’s chest as he soothingly strokes my hair.

“Then fight for it, babe. All you ever do is try to please people. You’re all adults, and your mom and brother will eventually come around,” Bryce says against my ear. I let out a heavy sigh, the cogs turning in my head with Bryce’s words on replay.

For once in my life, I was going to go after something I wanted. Damien Hart fucked me like he didn’t want it to end, and I was going to show him that he didn’t have to choose. I wanted Damien Hart, and nothing would stand in my way.

It had been a week and a half since the heartbreaking yet earth-shattering goodbye sex with Damien in my bar’s office. A week and a half of me devising the perfect plan to show Damien Hart that I wasn’t giving up so easily on the hot sex and good times we had together. We could be something real, and I know it’s not one-sided because he had been willing to spend Thanksgiving at my mom’s. I cringe a little inside every time I think about our Thanksgiving debacle. Well, nothing was going to stop me from getting back into the heart and bed of the man of my dreams.

I had Bryce get Damien’s address from one of his officers. Damien’s Caramel Park home was massive and what little was left of my heart broke as I stood outside Damien’s front door, working on my breathing to help calm my nerves. Aleena Munoz is a badass bitch. I was not a fucking punk that backed down from anything. Shit! I could do this. I could win my man back! Not to mention I had spent hours making myself irresistible. I took one last slow deep breath and rang his doorbell.

It was after ten at night on a random weekday, so he had to be home. I rang the doorbell again, feeling like a ball of stress, all while trying to maintain my confidence. I stood there with my self-assurance wavering, contemplating whether to ring the doorbell for the third time or leave and forget this crazy idea when Damien finally opened the door. Jesus, this beautiful bastard did things to my body just with a single glance. He stood there in nothing but flannel pajama bottoms. Damien stood there, shocked and shirtless. His muscular chest and sculpted abs sent a bolt of pleasure to my core, making my pussy instantaneously soak with desire.

“Aleena, it’s late. What are you doing here,” Damien stutters, running his hand through his hair. I shoulder my way inside before I lose confidence. His place even smells as mouth-watering as him.

I turned around, smirking, and responded, “Christmas came early for you this year, Commander.” I showed up at his house, freezing my tits off in a short red velvet Santa robe with white fur trim and a black belt. It was a sexy Santa outfit that barely covered my ass, but the real treat was underneath. Once Damien closed the front door and turned to face me, I did a little strip tease by slowly unbuckling the slim waist belt and allowing the halves of the robe to fall open, revealing a glimpse of the sexy lingerie underneath. I pulled the sexy Santa robe off my shoulders and let it hit the ground, revealing myself wrapped in sexy, barely there lingerie leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination.

I smirk in satisfaction as Damien’s eyes bug out of his head like a cartoon character, and the front of his thin flannel pajamas begin to bulge from his hard, big, growing erection due to the sight of me. He opens and closes his mouth a few times, his loss for words making me giggle.

Of course, he is left speechless. Any man would be after feasting their eyes on someone in scraps of lingerie. I’m wearing a strappy G-string bodysuit with thin straps crisscrossing in a bondage style across my waistline, exposing my torso. The thin, bondage-style straps of the bodysuit plunge between my thighs, wrapping around my cleft and exposing my mound. My breasts are pushed up under my chin in a cup-less bra with a ribbon tied in a bow, only covering my nipples, leaving my underboob fully exposed. I have on red thigh-high stockings and red lace booties. I sink to the floor at his feet, seated on my haunches, my knees splayed wide and my head down. I came wrapped as a gift for him in red lingerie to gift him my complete submissiveness.

“Damn, Aleena. I’ve never wanted a woman as badly as I want you,” Damien growls, cursing under his breath, inaudible swear words at the sight of me. “Look at me,” Damien growls, tilting my chin up and forcing me to make eye contact with him. His bright blue eyes are the darkest I’ve ever seen, reminding me of a stormy night sky. Damien’s lust-filled gaze drinks in my appearance and he lets go of my face freeing his big dick from his pajama bottoms, and it swings heavily between his thighs just inches from my face in my submissive position at his feet.

“I have one condition before we get this party started,” I say with a slight smirk since I had Damien in his most agreeable state. His eyes turned to suspicious slits as he began absentmindedly fisting his giant erection.

“Oh, yeah? What is it, hellcat,” Damien gruffly whispers through labored breaths. I feel my heart rate accelerate, and my nipples pucker as I gaze into his eyes.

“I give you all of me, and you give me all of you, or you give me none of you, and I give you nothing and leave. It’s all or nothing, Commander, so pick wisely,” I say with unwavering confidence. Damien snorts at my ultimatum, but he sees the fire in my eyes and gives me a broad grin.

“Fine. Whatever. It’ll have to be discrete until your mother and brother calm down from Thanksgiving, and then we’ll go from there,” Damien counters, making my heart swell to a point where it feels like it’s bursting free from my chest. He cups my chin and continues, “Now wrap those sexy red lips around your commander’s dick because it won’t suck itself.”

I roll my eyes at his cheesy joke as I lick the precum dribbling out from the tip of his dick. He lets out a low throaty groan as I wrap my lips around the head of his cock and circle my tongue around the underside. I slowly suck him down my throat, licking my way down the shaft until I’m gagging and choking on his dick. He lets out a string of expletives as I hollow my cheeks and bob my head back and forward, changing my pace and using lots of tongue just the way my Commander enjoys it. I deep throat the fuck out of his dick until he holds my head against his groins and shoots his hot cum down my throat. Damien pulls my head away from his still erect dick after I’ve swallowed every drop of his salty, tangy release. My mouth falls away with a pop, and slobber dribbles down my chin as Damien peers down into my face.

“I have a reward for my dirty little slut,” Damien growls, lifting me by the armpits and hastily peeling the bodysuit off my body, leaving me standing in nothing but the red thigh-high stocking and heels. He tugs hard on my nipples until they are painful, hard erect peaks extended from my chest. Damien’s mouth claims mine as he picks me up, wrapping my legs around his waist, and carries me upstairs to a bedroom. Damien places me down and turns me to face a black swing extended from the bedroom ceiling. I gasped in shock, never seeing a sex swing outside a porn film. “Do you trust me? If so, let me strap you into my sex swing and show you a good time,” Damien whispers in my ear, sucking on the side of my neck as his fingers reach out and toy with my nipples. I moan in pleasure, nodding my head.

Damien walks me over to the swing and holds it in place as I sit on the seat of the middle strap, feeling butterflies flutter nervously in my stomach as I clench Damien’s biceps in fear of falling. “Relax, baby, it can hold you. Let go of me and hold on to the top of these straps,” Damien coos at me as he slides each leg into a cuff sitting them comfortably below my knees. I’m extended off the ground, spread eagle for him, and we laugh as he gently pushes me back and forward. I feel free and light as I move slowly back and forward on the sex swing. I feel giddy with excitement about this new experience.

Damien strokes my nipples, teasing me as his hands travel down my torso to play with me between my thighs. In this position, my pussy lips are splayed wide for him giving him complete access to me to pleasure and toy with me as he wants. Strapped into the sex swing, Damien is in complete control of me. He takes his time with me running his hands all over my body, stimulating me with feather soft touches on my inner thighs, the instep of my foot, and my stomach. Damien has my core clenching, my clitoris throbbing, and my inner thighs coated with my arousal without him even touching my pussy.

“Please, Damien, I need you,” I beg between pants as he palms my right boob and strokes a finger around my clitoris. He gives me a smirk before swinging me out and onto his dick in one swift move. I feel so full, and he’s so deep as he repeats this motion a few times, teasing me. Damien grabs onto the straps I’m holding and begins pounding into me deeply, fast and hard, until I scream myself hoarse with pleasure. He slides one hand down to my clitoris and starts stroking and rubbing it as he picks up the pace with his deep thrust sending me over the edge in a body-shuddering orgasm. I feel him grunt his own sexual release as he paints my stomach and breasts with hot sticky ropes of his cum.

“You’re such a good girl, sweetheart. I hope you enjoyed this as much as I did. You took my dick so well. I’ve never seen a more beautiful sight than a sexy woman like you covered in my cum,” Damien praises me, releasing my body from the swing and lifting me into his strong muscular arms. “The best part about it is you’re all mine, baby,” Damien continues kissing my forehead. I preen under his praise and soft kisses, my eyes tired and my body limp in his hold.

I got the man of my dreams.

He is all mine.

I belong body, mind, and soul to him.

I am Damien Hart’s good girl, and nothing has ever brought me more happiness than him calling me his.

 I wake with a start in an unfamiliar bedroom. My core clenches, and my clitoris throbs like a second heartbeat as the memories from last night flash through my mind. I feel like I’m lying in a furnace as a hair-roughened thigh rubs against my hip and stubble scrapes between my shoulder blades. I’m lying in a cocoon of Damien, and I feel so at home. A girl could get used to waking up in a king-size bed that feels like a cloud and sheets like silk caressing her body.

I turn over in Damien’s embrace and kiss his forehead. I feel his manhood lengthen between us, feeling sexual heat course through my body. I push him from his side to his back, and I watch a slow, lazy smile cross his face as he tugs on one of my nipples, eliciting a gasp from between my lips.

Damien’s big hand lazily strokes the middle of my back and says, “I’m hungry for breakfast. Now, be a good girl and sit on your Commander’s face. I feel a tug of desire between my thighs, and my core grows wet with arousal as I straddle his face, reverse cowgirl, facing toward the bedroom door. He yanks me down from my hovering position to literally sit on his face as his tongue licks out to tease me before he devours my pussy like a starving man. I wiggle my hips, grinding down on his face, and I toy with my nipples, getting lost in the delicious sensations that Damien is creating with his mouth. He holds me in place as I close my eyes feeling my body become hot and pressure build in my body. I scream out my orgasm loudly as I cum all over Damien’s face.

My eyes pop open, and I scream because Damien and I are no longer alone in his bedroom. I wrench myself out of his hold, snatching a blanket to cover my nakedness as my mom’s face morphs from shock to displeasure. Damien goes pale like he’s seen a ghost when he and my mother make eye contact. He throws his legs off the side of the bed and pulls on his abandoned flannel pajama bottoms.

“Damien,” my mother growls angrily at him, and he holds up his hands in surrender.

“Neha, let me fucking explain,” Damien pleads, his eyes darting between us. As I slowly come down from the initial shock and mortification of my mom witnessing me orgasm while face sitting on one of her baby daddies, my mind morphs into a place of confusion. 

“Mom, do you have a key to Damien’s house,” I question, feeling a pick stab me in the back of the eye while I wrap the sheet tighter around my body.

“Don’t fucking do it, Neha. Just let me handle this. I told you, I have genuine feelings for her, and she does too,” Damien bellows after witnessing a glint of resolve. I’d never seen my mother, my Ammi, look so vindictive in her life like her hand was hovering over a kill switch, and she was about to implode everything.

“Yes, Aleena. I have a key to Damien’s house, in fact, all of his properties—” my mother said gently, making me feel uneasy.

Damien interrupts her, pleading, “Jesus, woman, don’t do this.” But my mind began to spin because she knew where his bedroom was so easily, as if she’d been here before, clearly.

My mother continues, “Damien and I never stopped seeing each other. That’s why your father and I never married. My heart was always with someone else. Do you remember all the girls’ weekends I used to go on? Well, those were spent with Damien. Anytime he had time to come home, I’d run like a lovesick fool to be with Damien Hart. Even after I moved to Los Angeles, I came up here to spend it with Damien a few weeks before Thanksgiving.” I felt bile rise in my throat at my mother’s admission of her ongoing affair with Damien. Hell, that was weeks, if not days, before he started fucking me. I became seething with anger and disgust at both of them. Yet, the only thing I could think about was poor Dalton. My mother wasn’t making sure that any free time Damien had was spent with his son. But she was selfishly taking it up to gain his attention and affection while repeatedly breaking my dad’s heart. I remember his looks of anguish like a kicked, lovesick puppy when she dropped me off to him for one of her girls’ weekends.

 Could it be that my mother saw me as competition for Damien’s heart, and that’s why she wanted me to end things with him? And Dalton was just an excuse?

“You both are selfish, disgusting individuals,” I scream, running off to the bathroom and locking myself away from them. I heard yelling and screaming from the other side of the door, but I tuned it out as my heart broke.

Clearly, the woman I had looked up to my whole life wasn’t who I thought she was. I wonder what other secrets she might be hiding.

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